Last Friday Night
by InvisibleInkling
Summary: SONGFIC! I was listening to Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night" and I thought it would make a good Drarry drabble series! And thus, this little CRACKFIC was born...
1. There's a stranger in my bed

**Okay, so my current fic "Till Death Do Us Part, The Alternative Story" is a HarryXCedric fic, but its kinda on hiatus for the moment. So, last night I was listening to Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night" and, being obsessed with Drarry pairings as I am, I thought Hey, this song would make a great Drarry drabble series!**

**So, each of these Drabbles may or may not be connected to the one previous. Some of the lines repeat, so I won't be making duplicate drabbles. **

**Enjoy!**

"**There's a stranger in my bed…"**

Draco awoke to rays of sunlight slanting in through the windows of his simply elegant London flat. Without opening his eyes, he rolled over, groaned, and tried to resume the **cough** very pleasant dream he had been having, involving a certain dark-haired former Gryffindor. Without thinking, he threw his pale, muscular arm over the warm body next to him. He pulled the man closer, snuggling into the warmth and murmuring "Harry?"

The man rolled over and, sounding quite irritated, replied, "Who?"

Draco's eyes snapped open, and were met with a pair of brown eyes, under a fringe of dirty-blonde hair. He very abruptly realized he didn't know the man's name…

…"Shit"….


	2. There's a pounding in my head

"**There's a pounding in my head…"**

Harry sat in his office at the Auror department of the ministry, head laid in defeat on his desk. What had happened last night? He had woken up wearing nothing but a dark green and silver tie, and now his head hurt like a bitch.

There was a light knock on his door, which for a moment made the pounding in his head even worse.

"Come in", he groaned, not bothering to raise his head.

He heard someone enter his office and summoned the strength to (very slowly) lift his head and lay his bloodshot eyes on a perfectly groomed Draco Malfoy. His hair was perfect, as usual. His clothes fit him perfectly, and were as always very expensive. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy, followed immediately by a wave of gratitude as the blonde smiled lovingly and handed him a small vial. Hangover remedy.

"Thank you, love." Harry said quietly. Draco kissed his mouth sweetly, and pulled back with a grimace.

"Your breath still reeks of firewhiskey, love." Draco said, laughing.

"Sod off, **love**" Harry said with a mocking glare.


	3. Glitter all over the room

"**Glitter all over the room…"**

Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Severus Potter were eleven years old, home for the summer from their first year at Hogwarts.

"Daddy look!" Scorpius called as he ran to Draco and Harry, being enveloped in their hugs.

"Look, Daddy!" Scorpius said again, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Albus taught me a cool spell! Ready?"

Draco and Harry exchanged a worried look.

"Ready Scorpius", they said in unison, sporting twin grimaces.

Scorpius waved his wand with a very Malfoy-like flourish, and silver glitter, the same colour as a Malfoy's eyes, shot out of the tip of his wand. As if of it's own accord, the glitter spread about the room and settled upon every available horizontal surface in the large dining room in the Potter-Malfoy flat.

"He…he was helping me set up for a party of the second-generation Marauders. I taught him the spell. I'm sorry." Albus said meekly.

Both grown men rolled their eyes.

"It's okay Albus, Scorpius, go and play now.", Draco said tiredly, flicking his wand and returning the room to its original state.

The boys fled the room. When they were gone, Harry and Draco looked at each other and immediately burst into hysterical laughter. When their composure was recovered, Draco gasped through his giggles and managed "Kids, huh?"

Harry just laughed.


	4. Pink flamingos in the pool

"…**Pink flamingos in the pool"**

Draco and Harry were tired of the paparazzi surrounding their relationship, and of the crap the Daily Prophet continuously printed about them. So they fled England for a long holiday in South America. So, Harry had been reading up on tourist attractions, locations, and wildlife. Draco was particularly fascinated with flamingos.

Harry wanted to go backpacking through the Amazon, but Draco would have none of it. He insisted that they stay in an expensive resort, nowhere near the mosquitoes and other bothersome creatures of the Amazon. Their suite had a view and was right inside next to the resort's swimming pool.

The pool was charmed to look like a South American lagoon. It was perfectly clean to swim in, but Draco didn't take to it very well. Especially when the lovers woke up one morning and found that their "lagoon view" was obscured by a flock of pink flamingos, fooled by the pool's charmed appearance.

"Shoo!" Draco yelled, waving his arms in a very un-Malfoyish fashion as he ran about on the deck around the pool in an effort to scare the birds away. "Go away!"

When he entered the suite again, he found Harry quite literally rolling on the floor laughing hysterically.

"What's so bloody funny?" Draco sniped.

"You…you should've seen yourself!" Harry gasped through bouts of laughter, mimicking Draco's frantic movements as he mockingly ran about the suite.

Draco stalked off to take a shower, leaving Harry to his fun, muttering "Bloody birds…"


	5. I smell like a minibar

"**I smell like a mini-bar…"**

Harry stumbled in the door, finally. It was about three A.M. Draco sat in the armchair in the living room, staring at the door with his arms folded and brow furrowed in an angry grimace. Harry looked up, and was startled by his lover's angry expression.

"Where have you been, Harry? You worried me." Draco ground out.

"Draco, baby!" Harry laughed, giddy from the copious amounts of Firewhiskey he had consumed when he and Seamus had gone out for "a quick drink". Damn Irishman. Didn't help that he wanted Harry either….

Harry walked in a curvy line across the room, and fell into Draco's lap, leaning in for a kiss. Draco, on the other hand, scowled, and all but threw Harry out of his lap onto the floor.

"I don't even want to talk to you right now. Oh, and you REEK of alcohol. The couch is made up. I will see you in the morning. I assume." And he stalked off into the bedroom.

Harry just shook his head as he lifted himself from the floor. Another night on the couch. He just shook his head. Draco always had been a bit of a jealous lover….


	6. DJ's passed out in the yard

"**DJ's passed out in the yard…"**

It was the summer before Harry's sixth year, and his oaf of a cousin (a.k.a "Duddikins") had just turned sixteen the previous night. So, of course, the Dursley's spared no expense in throwing a sweet sixteen party that had the whole neighborhood awake and screaming out their windows all night…

"Keep it down out there!"

"You have horrible taste in music!"

"I'M CALLING THE POLICE!"

Harry was no exception. He had been kept up all night by the racket, gotten virtually no sleep. And now he was expected to clean up the colossal mess that was left in both yards at Number Four, Private Drive.

Harry trudged out into the front yard, unsure how he was going to complete the task at hand without using magic. He carried two extra heavy-duty trash bags.

He began picking up broken bottles, red cups, and various other evidence of the illicit use of alcohol by minors. As his trash bags gradually filled and became heavier, he moved into the back yard. There too, he began carving through the mountains of trash.

At one point, he came across what looked like a very dirty bed sheet. He picked it up and was momentarily very frightened when it uncovered the body of a man whose eyes were closed, as if in very deep sleep. _Could he really be…? _ Harry thought, but he bent down and found a pulse at the man's wrist.

Harry considered for a moment before he pulled out his wand and flicked it towards the man, who woke very suddenly as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

"SHIT!", the man exclaimed, "What…what happened last night, kid?", said the man when he saw Harry's still slightly concerned face.

"Well, there was a party", Harry explained, gesturing to the piles of trash still scattered about the yard. "What do you remember?", Harry asked.

"Well", said the man thoughtfully, "I was playing some music at the tables over there", he said slowly and indicated the DJ equipment in the corner of the yard. Harry wondered why the Dursley's hadn't noticed and wondered why it was still there. "…And one of the kids handed me a drink. I thought it was just…just beer. But then everything went black…"

**A/N: Sorry, no Draco in this one, but since I assumed wizards would just have enchanted sound systems rather than DJs, this one had to be all-muggle (aside from Harry's underage use of magic to wake the poor guy up.) And you know how that doesn't work for Draco…**


	7. Barbies on the barbecue

"**Barbies on the barbeque…"**

Harry and Draco sat at a table covered in a festive tablecloth in the backyard of Ron and Hermione's new house. Rose and Hugo ran around playing with the trainer broomstick Rose had just received as a birthday gift from Ron ("Daddy".)

Draco sat close to Harry, drinking champagne and sulking. He hadn't wanted to come, but Harry had dragged him along anyway.

To offset the magical gifts, Hermione had gone into Muggle-London and bought some muggle toys for Rose, including a classic blonde-haired, blue eyed, size-00 Barbie doll, complete with accessories. She was now chasing Hugo around the yard as he held the doll high above he head.

"Give it back, Hugo!" the girl shrieked, making Draco cover his ears and whine. Harry kissed him on the cheek and whispered "It's almost over, love."

Hugo ran up to the barbecue where Ron was trying in vain to cook hamburgers "the muggle way", per Hermione's request. Hugo reached the hot barbecue, and thrust poor Barbie's head between the bars of the grill-top. He took off running full speed and cackling like a maniac.

As Hermione attempted to soothe the now screaming and tearful Rose, Draco shook his head, muttering "Bloody brats…"


	8. This a hickey or a bruise?

…**This a hickey or a bruise? **

Draco slumped down in his plush leather spinning office chair, at his mahogany desk in his spacious office with a view at the Ministry. Everyone had been giving him strange looks all day. Disapproving looks. And not the, "Your father was a Death Eater, I don't trust you here" looks that Draco was used to. No, these were more like, "I know what you did last night," kind of looks. And, okay, he and Harry had engaged in some shenanigans in their flat the previous night, but what business was that of any of his coworkers'?

As he was stewing over this and wondering what everybody's bloody problem was, Blaise Zabini, his Hogwarts friend and post-war Auror's assistant, entered the office with some finished reports and stopped in front of his desk.

"Here are those reports you needed Drac-whoa!"

Draco's eyes snapped up to bore into Zabini's grinning face. "What the hell are you on about, Zabini? Something wrong?"

"For you, maybe," Blaise replied, stifling laughter. He knew better by now. Blaise quickly transfigured a mirror from a knickknack on Draco's desk.

"Hey, that was my—bloody hell! " Draco's indignation was cut short as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His mouth dropped open as he registered the sight of the large, black and blue bruise blooming on one side of his neck under his collar, and memories of the previous night's debacle came flooding back.

"_Damn it, Potter,_" Draco lamented, dropping his head into his hands as Blaise burst out laughing. "You know there's a spell for that, right?"


End file.
